


Pretty, Dangerous

by Violette_Pleasures



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - No Zombie Apocalypse, Alternate Universe - Serial Killers, Ambiguous Age, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Carl is above 18 but under 21, Character Death, Drunken Flirting, Drunkenness, First Time Blow Jobs, First Time Bottoming, Horror, M/M, Masturbation, Mild Blood, Mildly Dubious Consent, Monsters, Rough Kissing, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-26
Updated: 2018-04-26
Packaged: 2019-04-28 00:26:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14437470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Violette_Pleasures/pseuds/Violette_Pleasures
Summary: Full moon nights were the best for prowling and hunting. Mother moon hung bright and heavy in the inky-black illuminating everything she touched with a haunting glow. The nights leading up to and just after, the light was never quite right, everything too dull, nothing outlined in that silvery gleam in the way that only a complete full moon could. Everything on these nights was crisper, fresher, wilder than usual, something mystic looming that got stronger with each inhale of cold night air.~AU in which Negan is a serial killer that allows himself one victim a month always on a full moon night and just so happens to meet a beautiful boy named Carl on a hunting night.





	Pretty, Dangerous

**Author's Note:**

> Hi hi! 
> 
> This is my first ever attempt at something this dark and kinda creepy? Penny dreadful style? Idk lol anyways, I really hope you guys enjoy it. I would really appreciate comments on your thoughts and opinions of this because it was really fun to write and I'd like to try another some time nwn

Full moon nights were the best for prowling and hunting. Mother moon hung bright and heavy in the inky-black illuminating everything she touched with a haunting glow. The nights leading up to and just after, the light was never quite right, everything too dull, nothing outlined in that silvery gleam in the way that only a complete full moon could. Everything on these nights was crisper, fresher, wilder than usual, something mystic looming that got stronger with each inhale of cold night air.

 

The Underground Red Gin Mill was just like any other trashed up, washed up dive in any other two bit town. No one's really sure who opened the place, who ran it now, or really cared to know. Rumor had it, a man named Red opened it in the 20's as a speakeasy, which would explain the tight winding and narrow hallways that lead to the back and in any direction from the bar top. Other's said it was opened by a Red Light madame around the same time and she was paying homage to her and her girls' livelihood.

 

Either way, it was a dirty den of inequity where every type eventually rolled through or could be seen hanging out around the old worn down bar or pool tables with their faded green felt peeling at the edges. Prostitutes wrapped in aging gold lame and latex with gaudy jewelry and gaudier perfume hung around the men that looked willing and lonely with just deep enough pockets. The steel mill workers mostly stuck to themselves, too fucking tired to be bothered and covered in years of grease and dirt that never seemed to quite wash off. Then there were always the few that looked too young to be anywhere near Red's Gin, obviously too many years shy of twenty-one looking for cheap thrills and maybe a first drink; young and dumb and eager to prove themselves—Negan's favorite. The young ones were always easy to persuade, to tempt away from the bar and into the shadows for his monthly game of cat and mouse.

 

Inhaling the scent of stale cigarette smoke and cheap sex, Negan walked up to the bar to sit and wait. He ordered a beer from the tap, a little skunky, but at least it was cold. It did little to wet his dry mouth or settle his heart pounding hard in his chest till it hurt. He scanned the room with careful, predatory eyes. So far nothing had caught his attention, just a sea of what were more or less faceless bodies and droning noise like the hum of a hive in full swing. Even if he had to pick one of these boring, unpalatable people, he wouldn't be leaving this dive alone.

 

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw him. A smaller, lanky kid with long brown hair that hung in perfect glossy waves to his shoulders, fair skin dusted with freckles and full lips that looked like a succulent, split open plum. One half of his face was hidden neatly behind gauze, covering one eye. Negan watched him curiously from across the bar, wondering what was under that bandage all the while pretending to casually light up a cigarette and puff on it. He pulled the smoke into his mouth as the kid, couldn't be much older that nineteen if that, wrapped those Hustler magazine worthy lips around the rim of an amber-glass bottle and nervously sip at it like a kid just waiting to get caught at any moment with his finger in the pie cooling on the sill. He was beautiful and perfect.

 

Sliding off his stool, Negan sidled up to the teen, carrying his half-empty beer glass in one hand, and leaned against the bar top. “You here alone?” He asked cooly, just the right amount of interested want and apathetic disinterest.

 

“N-no, I mean...ah, yeah,” His shoulders hunched, going up towards his ears and he barely looked up at Negan if at all as he tucked a lock of hair behind a pink seashell ear, shaking the rest down to better hide the gauze.

 

“Let me buy you a drink?” Negan offered, smirk growing wider at the pretty blush creeping up from underneath a baggy henley. He glanced at his wristwatch—three hours till midnight. He had time.

 

“I already have one, but uhm, how about the next one?” He licked his lips, biting into a tempting bottom lip and sucking gently.

 

“Perfect. What'll you have?” Negan pulled up a stool, the feet scraping across the hardwood floor with a low screech.

 

“Whatever you're having, I don't drink much.” The neon lights of the beer logo signs hanging behind the bar illuminated the boy's profile and caught in the deep, almost ebony, wisps of his hair setting his waves alight with ocean blue and his nose and mouth with pomegranate jewel red. He finally turned to look up at Negan, revealing one crystal blue eye that was almost luminescent in the low light. “What do you recommend?”

 

“I like 'em pretty stiff usually.” He grinned wolfishly at the boy and offered him his hand. “I'm Morgan, by the way.”

 

“Nice to meet you. I'm Carl.” Carl smiled prettily up at Negan, looking through mile long lashes and fluttering them like a flirtatious, fingertipped wave. Good. Meant he was interested.

 

“Nice to meet you, darlin'.” With a wink, Negan waved down the bartender. “I'll have a Negroni and for my friend here...a Singapore Sling.” The bartender gave a curt nod and went off to make their cocktails.

 

“Singapore Sling?” Carl asked, head tilted adorably to the side like a lost puppy.

 

“Its a gin cocktail. Nice and sweet just like you.” Negan ran his tongue along his teeth visibly checking Carl out and making his intentions known. “Can't come to a gin joint and not have some actual gin.”

 

“I suppose you're right.” Carl laughed softly, light and lilting like a silver bell. Negan could already imagine the way that soft voice was going to sound with his hands wrapped around the kid's throat squeezing down hard and harder until that pretty blue eye stopped sparkling. He almost felt bad for what he had planned for the poor kid. Almost.

 

The drinks arrived moments later and one cocktail quickly became two, became three and Carl was barely able to remain sitting on his stool. His cheeks were a delectable shade of rosy and his eye was glazed over. Negan checked his watch again. Hour and a half till midnight. He felt indulgent tonight, thought he might play with his food a little before he swallowed it whole.

 

“I think I'm drunk.” Carl hiccuped almost as if on cue. He looked very intently at the maraschino cherry stuck beneath the ice cubes at the bottom of his glass, trying to fish it out with his straw.

 

“You are lookin' pretty tipsy there, kid.” While Carl was distracted with his cherry, and oh how much more delicious he would be if he ended up being a virgin, Negan would almost bet money on it, to slip his arm around his shoulders and pull him close. “How about you and me get outta here and get better acquainted?” Negan placed a hand on Carl's thigh, delighted in how he blushed but didn't push it off either.

 

“Yeah. O-okay.” Smiling all loopy and sleepy, Carl fumbled his way off his stool and outside. No one so much as paid them a passing glance as they walked out into the damp, blessedly fresh, cool night air. Negan took a deep breath, feeling himself coming alive the closer the clock creep-crawled to midnight. A poetic fog seemed to be rolling out just for them as he opened the door to his sleek black Porsche for Carl and climbed in.

 

“Would you like me to take you home? Or would you maybe like to see mine?” Negan's eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly, honing in on the tame little lamb willingly sitting in his passenger seat.

 

Carl bit his lip, that fuckin' mesmerizing bottom lip turning cherry syrup red, and this time he looked Negan up and down. “I wanna see yours, Morgan.” His tone was maybe meant to be sexy, but Negan could sense the nervous undercurrent to it, obvious to him in the same way he could tell the kid was aroused and wanted something from him, expected it. He had no idea what he was really asking for.

 

With another grin that showed off perfect, white teeth, Negan put the car in gear and reversed out of the parking lot. “Mine it is, then.”

 

///

 

The further they drove into the woods surrounding the small town, the more a wildness built up in Negan's muscles, making him tense and stiffen in anticipation. He leaned forward slightly to gaze up at the moon through the windshield, white face smiling down on him as she always seemed to. The crunch of tires meeting gravel told him he was home and he carefully navigated the car down the unlit, winding path of his driveway.

 

The driveway met with a small attached garage, headlights turning the rolling fog into ghostly shadows against the white door. The house was smaller, a two story farm house with black shingles Negan had bought out from under an aging farmer when his wife passed away and he left to move in with his children further south in New Orleans. The grey sage paint acted like camouflage, helped the small house blend in with the woods. The light beige trim had started to chip on the wrap around porch, but Negan intended to fix that up this summer when the weather was warmer and the paint would actually dry.

 

“It isn't much, but its mine.” With a small smile playing his lips, he sauntered around to the passenger side and opened the door for Carl, finally feeling at peace now that he was on his home turf and knowing that the main event was at hand. Negan unlocked the door and welcomed Carl inside with a wave of his arm. When the boy paused he huffed a laugh and grabbed his arm, tugging him across the threshold. “Come in out of the cold, why don't you?”

 

“Its not that cold.” Carl laughed when he tripped on the welcome mat and landed against Negan's chest. He made no move to extract himself from Negan's arms winding vice like around his small frame and after a pause he gazed upwards. “I like it.”

 

“Like what, baby?” Negan purred nosing along Carl's jaw slow and savoring. Now that it was just the two of them, away from the stench of the bar, he could smell the perfume of Carl's skin, the light, tangy boyish musk that clung to the nape of his neck, the hollow of his beautiful swan-long throat.

 

“The house.” Carl teased with a wry grin, tilting his head back and letting the older man do as he pleased. He gasped when Negan bit at his pulse point, nearly going limp in his arms.

 

“Why thank you. But you haven't even seen the best part yet.” Spinning them both around, he pushed at Carl until he took the hint and started down the hallway towards his bedroom. Negan smirked at the large armoire off to the left side of the bed, thinking over all the lovely, gleaming tools hanging inside and nestled in the many drawers. In his mind he started to sort through them and pick which ones might most suit Carl as he backed him up to the edge of the bed. _Something dainty, small, like him...maybe a scalpel to start and filet knife to finish the job..._ he considered with a slight nod. 

 

“Ready?” Negan smiled faintly, bringing a hand up to the hem of Carl's shirt, slowly pushing it upwards to reveal taut abs and a fair, unblemished chest dotted here and there with dark beauty marks. This kid was a work of damn art. Negan hadn't seen anything that could compare in years, if ever.

 

“What makes you think I'm not?” Taking a shaky breath, Carl tried to situate himself confidently back on the bed, a light sweat on his brow.

 

“Maybe because you're shaking like a damn leaf.” Negan chuckled as Carl obediently lifted his arms up for him to remove his shirt and toss it aside. “This your first time, angel?”

 

Carl swallowed hard and looked down, outright ashamed. He swallowed hard, throat clicking audibly. God, Negan knew that adams apple was going to fit in his palm perfectly. “Is it that obvious?”

 

“Mm,” Negan shrugged noncommittally, pulling his own shirt off before running his hands down Carl's thin arms. His skin was cool to the touch and matte in a way that felt like alabaster or softly buffed marble, like a statue. “Its alright. I don't mind showing something as breath taking and sweet as you the ropes, darlin'.”

 

“Really?” Blue eyes quickly looked up at him so full of hope it was painful. “You don't mind if we have to go slow and if I mess up?”

 

“Not at all. We have all the time in the world.” All the time until midnight anyways. The clock on his bedside table showed 11:03 in a sickly green glow. He wrapped a hand around Carl's waist and jerked him forward roughly. Negan paused only for a split second to look at that hypnotic blue eye before devouring Carl's mouth.

 

Fuck, Carl tasted like inexperience. His tongue was stiff and his movements unsure, almost like he was trying to push Negan away with his mouth. But he quickly caught on and started shyly meeting Negan's tongue with his own and allowing himself to be lead. The boy's submissiveness, so full of trust for an absolute stranger, got Negan rock hard in his faded jeans and he pressed his hips forward into Carl's.

 

“Oh my god,” Carl panted between kisses, lips slick with spit. He reached down between them to palm Negan through his jeans. “Fuck...”

 

“Its okay, don't worry.” He covered his smaller hand with his own and pushed into Carl's hand, encouraging his exploration and moaning low.

 

Eventually, Carl worked his zipper open and pulled his rigid cock out. The young boy looked down at it hungrily, touching his length with too light caresses, fingertips fluttering all over, so desperate, so unpracticed, just knowing he wanted but not knowing how to ask. He held Negan's cock loosely and turned a questioning eye up to him.

 

“How do I...?”

 

“Just like yourself, kinda in reverse though.” He waited patiently for Carl to really squeeze down and pull. “Exactly, just like that.” Negan had Carl's pants opened and down in a blink, working his length over with trained precision until he was whimpering and leaking precum all over his hand. “Don't come yet...I want to try something else with you.”

 

Taking a shaky step back, Carl put a small space between them, waiting for Negan to guide him through the next step of their dance. Negan placed his hands on Carl's shoulders and pushed down. The boy quickly took the hint, realization flashing through his eye, and knelt amenably. Carl gazed upwards with another innocent, curious look and slowly opened his mouth wide, knowing what was coming next.

 

“That's perfect, baby...” This kid was all kinds of dangerous and addicting, like playing with fucking matches. He tapped the edge of Carl's bandaging; it had been distracting the fuck out of him since they started. “Can I take this off?”

 

Carl flinched hard and turned his face away. “I-I don't think you should...it would probably just be a huge turn off...its not exactly pretty.”

 

“Well now I'm even more curious.” Negan winked charmingly and made for the bandaging again. “I promise I'm not going anywhere, no matter what.”

 

“But...but there's nothing there...”

 

Nothing there? What the hell was he hiding under there? “Hey, I promised, alright?”

 

Carl took a deep breath and turned his face back up to Negan, closing his good eye. “...alright.”

 

Slowly, Negan unwound the wrap from Carl's head. First was a peek of pinked scar tissue low on his cheek, then the edge of something red and angry looking further up. The anticipation was about to kill him before finally, the last layer fell away to reveal the black emptiness of a hollowed out socket. The edges of the wound twitched as Carl blinked his other eye, his whole body rigid with the fear of rejection.

 

“Fuck me, that fuckin' gorgeous.”

 

Carl's eye snapped open, looking shocked and skeptical.

 

“Its incredible, Carl...makes you look like a broken porcelain doll...” It was true. The ruin of Carl's face just made the other side that much more fetching, all the more lovely in his imperfection. “Honestly, it just makes me want you even more.”

 

“R-really?” Carl looked like he could be knocked over with a feather.

 

“I meant every damn word.” Negan pinched his chin. “Now, do you wanna keep going?” He waited for Carl's nod before stepping forward and pulling his mouth open. “Good boy.” He placed the head of his cock on his tongue. “Now close your lips around it softly...yeah, perfect...now _suck._ ” 

 

Carl obeyed without a second thought, folding lip and tongue pleasurably around Negan's dick and sucking like he was being paid for it. He wondered if maybe the kid had done this once or twice before when his devilish tongue curled around the underside and prodded at the slit. Negan groaned and carded his fingers through the boy's hair, rocking his hips into his small, hot mouth.

 

He winced when he felt the prick of an eye tooth along his shaft. “Watch the fuckin' teeth, kid.”

 

“S-sorry! Its my first time...” Dark brows scrunched together worriedly, his tone genuinely apologetic.

 

“Its okay, just—cover your teeth with those gorgeous lips of yours...” _Damn lips were made for sucking cock_ , Negan finished to himself. “There you go, just like that. Much better.” He praised, watching the bob of Carl's throat as he swallowed nervously around his mouthful. Not too much longer now and he'd be taking what he wanted instead of playing nice.

 

When he was good and right on the edge of coming, Negan grabbed Carl and tossed him bodily onto the bed, taking immense satisfaction in how his slight frame bounced on the mattress and the surprised look on Carl's face. Grasping Carl's ankles, he drug and manhandled him to the edge of the bed, dropping to his knees. Might as well give him a little of the same, make his last moments somewhat pleasurable. He swallowed Carl down easily, living for the broken sounding keen that came out of him. He bobbed his head quickly, trying to coax him quickly to the edge.

 

“Fuck, Morgan...I'm gonna...” Carl clawed at the bedding, back arching off the sheets beautifully.

 

“Nuh-uh, not yet.” Negan encircled the base of Carl's cock with forefinger and thumb and applied pressure to stop him from climaxing. He smirked at the whining sound of protest Carl made. “I want you to cum on my dick, darlin'. You ever finger yourself?”

 

Carl froze for a second before nodding bashfully.

 

“Good, then I want you to prep yourself for me, alright? I gotta grab something real fast.” He jutted a thumb over his shoulder at the armoire. Negan waited for Carl to obey him, bending deliciously forward, ass up face down, working a finger inside himself, before moving off the bed.

 

Careful so that the boy couldn't see what was inside, Negan opened the chest of drawers and pulled out a small garotte. He held it loosely at his side and shoved it under his pillow while Carl's eye was closed.

 

“Think you're ready?” Negan husked, watching as Carl worked a third finger inside himself. It was so unexpectedly slutty seeing innocent little Carl writhe and moan like that, with orgasm and cock the only things on his mind.

 

“Yes. Please? Can we...?” The boy looked over his shoulder, eye half lidded and cheeks flushed.

 

“Of course, but I want you on top.” Negan crawled up onto the bed on all fours, stalking his prey and ready to pounce as the clock flickered and changed to 11:46. “Might be easier for you...might feel better if you can control things...” It was a lie. A bold faced, entirely selfish lie. Carl on top would only allow Negan to fuck deeper into him and put him in the perfect position when Negan inevitably flipped them and adorned his elegant neck with his shiny piano wire. Fucking this dark beauty then watching the life drain out of him was going to be exquisite.

 

“Okay, if you say so.” Carl spoke nervously, voice whispery soft with want. He knelt up patiently waiting for Negan to position himself at the head of the bed and roll a condom on.

 

“Alright, honey, hop on.” Negan smiled and patted his thighs. He helped Carl get the angle right and lower himself down on his turgid member, letting his eyes slip shut as he savored the tight silk as it encased him wholly.

 

“Ooh~!” Carl's chest heaved on a jittery breath, brows scrunched together in pain and bliss. He screamed when Negan quickly thrust up into him, ass meeting thighs. “You're too...you're so...so big.” He panted, body shaking.

 

“I know, too big for a little thing like you, huh?” Negan cooed in a parody of sympathy, stroking a full cheek. He grasped Carl's hips impatiently and lifted him slightly off his length, then lowered him back down over and over. “Moving helps you get used to it faster.”

 

Carl grabbed his shoulders and started helping him move. He pushed up on trembling legs and brought himself back down, riding Negan's large cock. The boy whimpered, watching Negan through lashes thick with tears.

 

“Its okay, baby, you're doing so good.” Negan praised, prying Carl's hands off his shoulders and moving to lay down more. Carl rolled his hips divinely, head falling forward and breathing hard as he did all the work and Negan laid back to watch him move, appreciating him like a painting in a museum. He wanted to remember every little detail about this prepossessing, shattered china doll of a boy that fell miraculously into his lap at just the right time. The moonlight slipped between the curtains, setting Carl's body aglow like a soft spotlight. Perfect. Just perfect.

 

Negan looked at the clock again. Two minutes till midnight and he could feel things starting to shift into place, black hunger roiling up inside him like hot tar. _I'm gonna fucking devour you whole._ His hand slipped beneath the pillow to take hold of one handle.

 

A giggle bubbled up out of nowhere, catching Negan's attention and throwing him off-guard.

 

“Its just really fucking funny...” Carl laughed under his breath, quiet and out of place.

 

“What is?”

 

“How all you men think I'm the same damn thing...weak, pretty, defenseless...” The teenager's smile grew as he lifted his head, the emptiness of his socket somehow darker, more like a gaping chasm, in the near blackness of Negan's bedroom. Negan's grip on the garrote tightened. “But if you only knew the truth...” Carl leaned in closer, the blue of his eye giving way to pitch then to gleaming rubies. The hint of something silver just behind those full lips glinted in the slice of moonlight streaming in through the crack in the curtains; fangs adorning the corners of a malicious smile. “...you'd be running away fucking screaming. 'Cause I'm going to tear your tissue paper body apart and wear your bones like fine ivory, _Negan_.”

 

“W-what the hell?! How—!!” Whatever he wanted to say was cut off by a small hand wrapping around and squeezing down on his throat with way more strength than Carl should've been able to manage.

 

“How does it feel, _baby_? This is what you wanted to do to me, right? What you've been fantasizing about since you met me in that seedy bar?” Carl's lips curled back over his teeth as he moved in, jaw opened and poised to take a bite. “Think you're some child of the moon...ha! I'm older than the moon and I can tell you, she doesn't give a damn about you.”

 

Fangs tore into Negan's neck, razor sharp sliding right through muscle and tissue down to the vein. He tried to open his mouth to scream, to speak, anything, but nothing came out, only a distant wet gurgling that he realized belatedly was his attempt at screaming. Warmth gushed between his fingers as he clasped a hand to his neck to fruitlessly try and stop the bleeding. The last thing he saw before everything faded and he slipped into the dark unthinking, was Carl sitting on his hips with a deranged smile that somehow looked almost loving, red ringing his mouth and staining to his teeth.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Gimme some kudos and a comment if that ending got you good ;3c


End file.
